


trapped (but not really)

by Bowthaisarecool



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Flirting, Coffee Shop Owner! Sansa, F/M, Fluff, Jon and Sansa like each other but they don't know it yet, Mutual Pining, Snowed in but it's not snow it's a storm, i dunno where i'm going with this guys, jonsa, modern with magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26825167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bowthaisarecool/pseuds/Bowthaisarecool
Summary: After a prank gone wrong, Sansa gets trapped in her coffee shop and Jon comes to her rescue. Only, he gets trapped with her too.Posted for the Jonsa Autumn Drabbles 2020Each chapter is inspired by the prompt of the day.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 98
Kudos: 113
Collections: Jonsa Autumn Drabbles 2020





	1. Thunderstorms

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1 prompt - Dark Nights OR Coffee shop

She just finished counting down the till. October was always the busiest time of the year, even on Samhain. Although there are few in Wintertown who still participated in the religious practices of the holiday, everyone still celebrated. Sansa got her things and prepared to leave when it happened. A flash of bright white light filled up the room. The surprise of the light and the shadows it created scared her so badly she flinched back, hitting one of the coffee tables and dropping her things -that included coffee- to the floor.

“Shit,” she muttered, “What the hell was that?” Bonfires shouldn’t be starting for at least another hour. Even then, bonfires don’t have flashes like that, not even when some daring soul pours oil in it to watch the flames jump high. So that means it must’ve been mischievous children pulling pranks. Or maybe it was Arya and Rickon. She wouldn’t put it past them to somehow get their hands on halogen construction lights to flash her shop. They loved scaring her. Unfortunately, she heard a rumble. _On no._ It wasn’t a Samhain prank, it’s a storm. 

Sansa quickly cleaned the spilt coffee and told herself she’ll mop it properly in the morning. She hated thunderstorms and wanted to get home. Another lightning bolt struck. This one alarmingly close and almost blue in color. Another loud bang followed. Shaking, she searched for her keys in her handbag, distracted so she didn’t hear the crackling noises. Before she was able to open the front door, another loud crash. But this one wasn’t from the thunderstorm. No, this crash came in tandem with the large weirwood tree that now lied horizontally in front of the door. In front of her _outward_ swinging door. Face to face with not just any weirwood, but a heart tree no less, Sansa let out a bloodcurdling scream. 

Knowing the front door could no longer open, she rushed to the back. Robb still had her backdoor key so she wouldn’t be able to lock up properly, but _fuck no_ was she going to stay here. She slammed open the back door. Or, she tried to. It barely made two inches open before something blocked it. _No no no no._ Peeking out the crack of the opened door, she saw what was blocking it: a giant dumpster bin, the one that doesn’t get emptied until tomorrow, so it’s completely full and nearly impossible for anyone without a garbage truck to move it. Nearly. 

Retreating to the breakroom -because yes, in her floorplan designs she included a breakroom, but not doors that swing in instead of _out_ \- she took out her phone to call Robb, her mother, _somebody._

Dead phone. 

“What the fuck?” What kind of shit luck did she have? She was sure she had her phone charging. Arya said it was- Sansa swore, “Arya!” Grabbing the landline, she began dialing before she remembered her parents cancelled their landline because no one used it, and she hadn’t bothered memorizing anyone else’s number because they changed so often. Then she remembered. _Jon hasn’t changed his number for as long as I’ve known him._ Quickly she dialed.

__

“Where’s Sansa?” Robb looked over to him.

Jon shrugged, “I dunno, probably already at Torrhen’s Square for the festival? Everything got moved to the mansion when the rain started and Arya said she was meeting us there.”

“Alright, well I’m gonna pick up Talisa. Sure you don’t need a ride?”

“I’m sure. Now get outta here, your lady awaits,” Jon joked. He still had some work to do before joining everyone for the night’s festivities.

A few minutes after Robb left, Jon got a call.

“Hello?”

“Jon! Thank the gods you answered. Please come to my shop! The thunderstorms- it- they- then everything went dark. Power’s out and a weirwood fell over and the dumpster is blocking the other one and-” he could hear Sansa crying over her babbling. She sounded utterly terrified.

“Whoa whoa whoa, hold on Sansa, slow down. What happened?”

“I’m trapped in my coffee shop, please come get me,” she begged.

Jon swore, “Alright hang tight. I’ll be there in less than ten.”

Grabbing his coat and keys, Jon rushed out.

__

With Jon on the way, Sansa calmed down enough to make herself another pot of coffee. She needed something to do. Sitting by the empty fireplace with a warm drink in hand, she waited.

“Sansa?” Jon climbed over the tree and jumped down to the door.

“Jon! I’m in here!” Sansa stood up and waved towards Jon through the glass door. 

With all the strength he could muster, Jon moved a particularly heavy branch of the tree out of the way, opened the door, and slipped in. Opening his mouth to speak, he was cut short when Sansa flung herself at him. Not sure if it was adrenalin or the pot of coffee she just drank, but her heart was racing as she clung harder to Jon.

“Hey hey hey, calm down love, you’re safe, I’m here.” Rubbing her back in soothing circles, Sansa’s breathing evened. He kissed her forehead and pulled back, “There, all better.” Smiling softly at her, he pushed her hair back and wiped her tears. “How ‘bout we get you outta here?”

Maybe it was the way he looked at her. Maybe it was the way he was always the one coming to her rescue. Maybe it was just them standing in the dark in such close proximity. Whatever the reason, she cupped his face and kissed him. _Hard._ Breathing heavily, Sansa pulled back and looked into Jon’s -now darkened- eyes. Before either one could say anything, they heard a crack. Another part of the weirwood snapped off and completely blocked off the door and covered the windows.

They both swore. “Shit.”


	2. Afterglow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Jon make do with what they have in the coffee shop.
> 
> Day 2 prompt: Changes OR Tradition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, kinda incorporated both prompts again hehe✨

“What do we do, what do we do?” Sansa began pacing. She blamed herself. So close to being able to safely go home and she just  _ had _ to ambush Jon like that?  _ Oh right, Jon.  _ She turned back towards Jon to see him staring contemplatively at the fallen branch covering their way out. “Jon?”

At the sound of his name, he looked up. “Oh, sorry. It’s just peculiar isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“Well, when I jumped over the weirwood,” Jon gestured to the tree in question, “there wasn’t a branch that big anywhere near me that would have fallen over like that.”

Sansa furrowed her brows, “Well it was dark, right? Maybe you just didn’t see?”

“Maybe,” Jon turned back to her. “So now what?”

“Uhm, we get outta here?” she said hopefully. 

He sighed, “With that thunderstorm, everyone will either be at Torrhen’s Square or back to their homes. I didn’t see anyone around for blocks, Sans. We aren’t getting out of here unless you’re okay with smashing some windows.” 

She frowned at that. He knew how much Sansa loved her little cafe. She bought, designed, and opened it on her own. Sure she had friends and family to help here and there, but the most important thing was that she worked hard for it. Not a drop of Stark money went into this other than her own. “No,” she said softly, “No, I can’t do that.”

“Alright,” Jon nodded, “looks like we’ll be here until morning then.”

She snapped up, “Morning? No no no, the festival is tonight! We can’t miss it, Jon. We’re supposed to go and watch the lighting of the bonfire. And then wait for Theon or Arya to throw a cup of oil in when enough people have gathered because they’re idiots who never grew out of pranks. We’re supposed to eat silly cakes that tell our future. Give treats to the kids in the neighborhood. Watch a mummer’s play. We’re supposed to drink hot chocolate and stargaze. We always drink hot chocolate! It’s sweet and warm and makes _me_ feel warm and-” Sansa knew she was starting to sound desperate, but she didn’t care. Then, in a softer voice, “These are our traditions Jon. We can’t just… drop them.”

He felt for her, he really did. In an attempt to cheer her up, Jon said the first thing that came to mind, “Then we’ll change it up! No, hear me out. You have a kitchen and a fireplace and decorations laying about, right?” Sansa nodded. “I know it’s not the same without your family, but we can celebrate here, love. Just the two of us.” A fresh wave of tears filled Sansa’s eyes.  _ Oh gods, she hates it. _ “Oh no please don’t cry. It’s okay we don’t have to do any of that. We can just sit and-”

“No, sorry!” Sansa rubbed her eyes. “I love that idea, Jon. These are good tears I promise.” To prove it, she grabbed his hands and beamed up at him. “Let’s get to it!” Jon’s heart most certainly did  _ not  _ skip a beat, no sir.

For the next hour or so, they both worked separately to surprise each other. Jon was in charge of the decorations and the “bonfire” (it was the fireplace) and Sansa went into the kitchen to prepare some treats.

When she was done, Sansa came out to the front with a tray full of goodies and stared in awe. The furniture was all arranged to surround the fireplace. He had candles lit on every table and laid down cushions from the various bay windows on the floor. In the center in front of the fire lay a few wool blankets she had stored in the break room. String lights were hung above them, twinkling like stars. “Jon, it’s gorgeous. It all looks so cozy!” The mix of different lights in the room created such a soft ambience. Almost like an afterglow.

He looked pleased with himself. “Good, cozy is what I was going for. With the thunderstorm knocking out most of the power, I had to make sure we won’t freeze tonight.”

Sansa suddenly looked concerned. “Do you think it’ll get that cold? I'm not sure how much firewood I have left. I mean if it does, we can just go to the kitchen, there’s still power back there. We can turn on an oven or something? I’m sorry the generator only powers up the back, I never really planned for sleepovers in the cafe, especially during power outages.”

He chuckled at her rambling. “It’s alright Sans, I’m sure we can find ways to keep warm.” 

Sansa's eyebrows shot up. Jon, realizing the implications of what he just said, blushed furiously.  _ I mean I’m not opposed to the idea…  _

He cleared his throat. “Right, so what’ve we got here? Oh! I love hot chocolate! Here’s yours.” Jon’s smile came off more as a grimace than anything.

Sansa lowered her eyes and bit her bottom lip. She didn’t see his eyes zoning in on her lips, pupils dilating. “Jon… about what happened earlier-”

He looked back to her eyes. “Don’t worry about it! It was a scary time. Your emotions were running high.”  _ Oh gods, please don’t say you regret it. _

“Right.”  _ Damn, he regrets it. _

Jon raised his mug of hot chocolate and Sansa followed suit.

“To welcomed changes.”

“To new traditions.”

Suddenly, the string lights began to flicker and then shut off. “…I probably should’ve told you, those batteries are old.”

Meeting each other's eyes in the candlelight, they both burst in giggles. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is like the slowest of burns you can get in a drabblefest lmao  
> lowkey making things up as i go at this point ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	3. Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pudding and fortunes and fae, oh my!
> 
> Day 3 prompt: Natural or **Magic**

Their laughter subdued until they just stared at one another. Sansa was mesmerized with the reflection of flickering firelight in Jon’s eyes. And he with the soft warm glow surrounding her hair. Unable to resist, he reached out to grab a lock and twirled it around his finger. Sounds of crackling fire and heavy breathing filled the room. He tugged lightly at her hair, drawing her in. They leaned closer and closer until their lips grazed.

A loud snap broke them a part. _Dammit again?_ Looking out of the windows, they could see another branch has either broken off or shifted somehow in the rain. Moonlight from outside shown through the top of the windows.

Sansa cleared her throat, “Those damn batteries, right?”

Jon snorted. “You either have the worst luck in the world, or the fae have come out to play.” Sansa paled. “Hey, I wasn’t serious about that Sansa, you’re not that bad in luck. Things like this happen. And I’m positive the _fae_ aren’t responsible.”

She pointed to where the night sky was visible and whispered, “Jon, look.” He turned to what she was trying to show him and saw it. Glowing blue lights. “Will-o’-the-wisps. Seven hells, you were right.”

“Sansa-”

“Samhain has started and the fae have come.”

“Those are bioluminescence. There _are_ no fae love.” 

She looked at Jon incredulously, “Then explain how a thousand year old tree just happened to collapse right when I needed to get out. And then continued to break off when you got here, effectively blocking us in.”

“Well first, I don’t think it’s a thousand years old. And I dunno, the weather? Lightning probably struck it? Maybe you really _do_ have shit luck,” Jon teased. 

Sansa pouted.

“Look, it’s not sinister faeries alright?” he said gently.

Sansa relaxed with Jon’s reassurance.

“Besides,” he smirked, “Will-o’-the-wisps aren’t really known for living in trees, those are dryads. And they’re usually very shy about showing themselves.” Sansa smacked him as he continued, laughing at her expense, “And they don’t live in weirwoods either, they’re known for living in ash and hawthornes! If anything, those will-o’-the-wisps just came to see the commotion, not cause it!”

“Jon Snow, you are terrible!”

“I’m just teasing love. Come on, let’s eat the lovely spread you’ve made here.” 

Glaring at Jon one final time, she grabbed the tray of treats and sat down. Sansa, not one to half ass anything, had made enough food to last them all night. 

“As always Sansa,” Jon joined her and grabbed a glass trifle bowl of cranachan in his hands and lifted up in a toast, “You’ve outdone yourself.” With one final _cheers_ , they both lifted a heaping spoonful of raspberry pudding to their mouths. And then Jon promptly choked and spit his it out. Holding a little gashapon capsule in his hand, he looked up questioningly at Sansa, only to see her unsuccessfully holding back a smile. “Uhm??”

“Sorry!” she busted out laughing, “I might’ve forgotten to tell you there’s a little surprise in there?”

Briefly distracted by her laugh, Jon blinked. _Right, traditions._ “Alright, I’m just not gonna question where you got this. What’s inside? And where’s yours?”

“I dunno, haven’t opened them,” Sansa spooned her capsule out of her bowl and was cleaning it off, “They’re from the little vending machine at the bookstore down the street. Thought they’d work for the occasion. Open on three?”

 _I can’t say no to those eyes._ He dramatically held his in front of his face, posed to open it. “One.”

Sansa smiled. “Two.”

“Three!” They shouted and opened their items.

“Oh Jon, look!” Sansa held up a mini direwolf figurine, with white fur and red eyes, “It looks kind of like Ghost! I’ll display it by the register.” 

Jon smiled at how fondly she looked at her toy. He chuckled when he lifted his, “I’m not sure what I’ll be doing with mine though.” Hanging from his hand was a silver chain with a dragonfly pendant dangling on it.

“Aw that’s so pretty!”

Jon quirked his brow and motioned for her to turn around with his finger. Turning around, Sansa held her breath. She could feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Hair up please.” 

With her hair to the side, she could feel his breath on her neck. She shivered. _He makes me feel warm._ _Safe._

“Sansa,” he murmured. She hummed in response. “You’ve got goosebumps.”

She turned around and he gazed into her eyes. Drawn to her, he began to lean in. “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?” She fluttered her eyes. Unable to speak, Sansa nodded her head. 

This one wasn’t like the others. Not desperate and hard. Not short and fleeting. This kiss was soft and sweet. Passionate. And most importantly, _not_ spontaneous. It was planned. Wanted.

Sansa pulled back first, and perhaps too soon. Jon continued giving her soft kisses everywhere. Her lips, her cheeks, her eyes, her forehead. _One taste is not enough._ But he relented. _Easy Snow, she consented to one kiss, not hundreds._

Not sure what to say, Sansa looked back at the makeshift charcuterie board with the toy direwolf. “Well that was a bust.”

Jon shifted uncomfortably. “Sorry?” _Has it been that long since I’ve kissed someone?_

“I mean the things we find in our food is supposed to give us our fortune right? Not sure it worked.” _Although my direwolf does have an uncanny resemblance to Jon’s dog._ Her eyes suddenly darted to the upper windows when she noticed more blue glowing orbs flitting about. She looked back and noticed Jon staring at the dragonfly pendant, which conveniently sat on her décolletage. “Jon?”

His eyes shot up. “No, I think they’re perfect.”

“I’m sure you do,” she said wryly. Feeling bold, she straddled his lap and cupped his face. _I dunno if there’s fae magic in here tonight, but if not, we’ll make our own._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can say the word count made me stop here, but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ that's a lie
> 
> Also, i know some of the things they're doin is less traditional in terms of Samhain, but uh.... remember they're making their own tradition rn😅


	4. Stardust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> boom, feelings.
> 
> Day 4) Spicy OR Sweetness (both, I did both)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha _you_ thought😉

Sweaty brows and messy hair; things Sansa usually wouldn’t be caught dead associated with. But right now, with Jon, she doesn’t care. It felt right. _I guess I can safely say he very much does not regret those kisses._ Just the thought of Jon wanting her had her kissing him and holding him closer with renewed vigour. 

After what felt like hours -but was probably only minutes- Jon slowed down his kisses. The fact that Sansa wanted him the way he wanted her made his heart explode. But the way that she kissed and caressed him made the rest of him want to explode too, and he wasn’t about to embarrass himself like that. He’ll settle for holding her instead. _Gods, there’s nothing better in this world than cuddling Sansa Stark._ He pressed his forehead to hers and looked into her eyes. They glittered like stardust and he felt lost in them. 

“Hey love,” he said breathlessly, “we should probably finish that little feast of yours. Don’t want anything to go bad now do we?”

“Hmm?” Still in a daze, it took her a moment to process what he said. “Oh, right! Yeah,” Sansa broke away and crawled over to where the tray of food was last left, “Oh no! The food's probably not hot anymore.” 

Jon took the tray from her and set it down before she could fret anymore. “It’s fine, I’m sure the fire in the room has kept it warm enough.” Looking at her pointedly, he grabbed whatever was closest to him and took a bite and chewed. “Yum.” Jon scrunched his face as he swallowed. “Delicious.”

Sansa crossed her arms. “You’re a shit liar Jon Snow.”

“No it’s good! It’s just,” he started coughing, “Er, what am I eating exactly?” He downed his now room temperature hot chocolate.

“Didn’t have ingredients for a pie, so I made little turkey croissant sandwiches.” Jon waved his hand for her to continue. “And I may have overdone it on the hot sauce?” she sheepishly said. 

He wagged a finger to her. “Bingo.”

“Oops. Sorry, I got this bottle down in Sunspear when I went to get those special Dornish coffee beans last month. It's tasty and Arianne swears by it. Too spicy?”

“Nah,” Jon smiled at her reassuringly, “I like it spicy.” He winked. Blinked? 

Sansa snorted, “Yeah okay. So. Moving on. I don’t have mulled wine, but I _do_ have something better.” She lifted up another mug and waved the smell of it in his face.

Jon gasped, “You made it?!” Call him basic, but Pumpkin Spice Latte was Jon’s utter favourite seasonal drink.

“What kind of coffee shop owner am I if I didn’t?” She handed him his drink and waved a can of whipped cream in front of her. “Want some?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he held his mug out to her, “I like my coffee how I like my women.” Sansa raised her brow. Jon Snow is awful at pickup lines. “Incredibly sweet with a hint of spice.” 

She blushed. _Ooof alright, that was smooth._ She turned to grab her own latte.

“In case it wasn’t clear, I was talking about you.”

Sansa turned back to him to respond, but instead of saying something equally witty and flirty, she laughed. “Jon, are you _smoldering?_ ”

He straightened his back and put on a blank face, “No.”

“Shit liar,” she reminded him.

He laughed, “Yeah yeah yeah. Gods Sansa, I’m _trying_ to flirt with you here.”

She looked at him in shock. Yes, the kissing and the cuddling sort of gave it away that Jon had romantic feelings for her. But something about hearing it said out loud made everything more real. “Jon,” she said slowly, “Are you- do you mean-”

“Sansa, I like you,” he interrupted her and looked at her earnestly, “I’ve liked you for a while now and I think you like me. And I’d also like to take you out on a date. If you want?”

She couldn’t help but smile. “You like me?”

Jon leaned in and whispered conspiratorially to her, “I think the kissing gave it away, don’t you?” 

Sansa rolled her eyes and laughed. “Alright then Jon Snow. Take me out on a date.” She took a sip of her drink. “But it’ll have to be after Wednesday. Arya has a test before that and I don’t want her closing when she should be studying.”

 _Sweet Sansa, always thinking of others._ “Sounds like a plan.” Jon took another bite of his croissant, easier now that he knows what to expect. “Oh, by the way, how do you like the Dornish coffee? I haven’t had the chance to try it yet.”

“Yeah I love it! The beans produce such a fine powder compared to some of the others I carry,” _Should I? I’m gonna._ Sansa waited for Jon to take a sip of his latte before adding, “And you _know_ how I love to grind.”

Jon choked on his coffee. _There’s the spice._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to make the grind joke in chapter one, but they weren't There™ yet.


	5. All Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pillow talk, jonsa stylez
> 
> Day 5 prompt: Frost Mornings or Firelight (i did both again)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jonsa staring at each other in the firelight is _unparalleled_

“I am _completely_ stuffed.” Jon licked off the crumbs of the biscotti from his fingers. “That was incredibly delicious, Sans. Gods, I wish I could eat all night long.”

Sansa lifted a brow and smirked. _Oh really?_

“The _food_ ,” Jon huffed. After seeing his reaction to her grinding pun and rather enjoying his blushes, Sansa kept going with the innuendos. _“Oh Jon, don’t you love whipped cream? I sometimes eat it straight from the can. I just love the taste of cream squirted on my tongue.”_ and _“It’s great that I own a coffee shop isn’t it? I can have as much caffeine as I want so I have the energy to stay up all night long.”_ and the worst one (his favourite, actually, but he won’t admit it) _“Is the drink too hot? I can cool it down for you, I’m really good at blowing hot things.”_ Jon shifted uncomfortably at that one. His jeans had gotten inexplicably tight, and it wasn’t from the food. Her tantalizing comments kept coming and unfortunately _he_ did not. 

Sansa giggled. “Aw, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to embarrass you. I’ll stop, I promise.” _Actually please don’t._ Sansa leaned back on her palms. “So, now what? We’ve checked off hot chocolate, bonfire, fortunetelling, feasting.”

“Suppose all that’s left is a mummer’s play,” Jon may have been joking, but Sansa’s eyes lit up. “Wait. No no no, Sansa, I can’t act. You _know_ I can’t act.”

“I happen to think you’d make a perfect King Finvarra.” she sniffed. “But fine. We don’t have any costumes anyhow.” 

Jon snorted. “If I’m King Finvarra, then you’re Oona, High Queen of the faeries.” 

She tilted her chin up. “If I am High Queen, then I demand you perform a play for me!” A sudden sound of a thunderclap shook the windows. Sansa shrunk. “Okay, clearly we should _not_ be making fun of the fae queen right now. Else she’ll send her weather spirits again.” With a final stretch of her arms, Sansa lied down by the fire, facing Jon. After moving the tray of empty dishes on a nearby table, Jon followed suit. Turning on his side to look back at her, all Jon could see was her silhouette from the firelight. And it was a breathtaking image.

“Do you actually believe in all that? In the fae?” Jon was curious. He knew the Starks held a slightly more religious relationship with Samhain, but he never really asked about it. 

Sansa took her time and thought about his question before answering. “Yeah, I think I do. I mean it explains a lot of the things that happen in our day to day lives, you know?” Seeing Jon’s slight head shake, she elaborated, “Like when you lose your keys and they magically turn up, or when you feel a breeze run through your hair and wonder if it’s alive.” Sansa rolled back to face the ceiling, “Or when it’s snowing and you feel the drifting snowflakes brushing your cheek, almost like a-”

“Like a lover’s kiss.” She could feel his heated stare on her and it made Sansa blush darker than she had all night. He was completely enraptured, and it thrilled her.

Still unused to this type of prolonged attention though, she cleared her throat. “Besides, my mother swears Rickon is a changeling. Says he’s too feral to be hers.”

Jon rolled on his back too and sniggered. “Oh, Rickon not Arya? Sometimes I swear she’s the most wild of us all.”

“Nah,” Sansa chuckled, “She may look like my dad, but Arya takes after our mother. Clever, resourceful, and _incredibly_ feisty.”

“You know,” Jon said thoughtfully, “I’m always surprised when I think about how you two never got on when you were younger. You’re thick as thieves now.”

“It’s not that we didn’t get along per se, but what 9 and 11 year old sisters ever do? We were just so different and didn’t understand how to relate to each other. So we lashed out.” They lay in a comfortable silence until Sansa asked, “So what about you? Why _don’t_ you believe in fae? In magic?”

“I dunno, I think it was just harder for me to believe in magic with my childhood, you know? Don’t get me wrong, I love my mum and I’m proud and happy at where we are now. It was just… unnecessarily hard.” He looked over to Sansa, bracing himself for the expected look of pity, but instead found none.

“Honestly Jon, fuck your dad. Your mother did an _amazing_ job with you.” 

Overcome with so much emotion, he reached out for Sansa and held her in a tight embrace. And that’s how they spent the rest of their night. Snuggled together by the firelight, talking about anything and everything until they fell asleep. A last thought lingered before he dozed off completely. _Maybe I do believe in magic._

A rustling noise outside woke Jon up. Sometime during their slumber, the fire had died out and now the room was dark and chilly from the early morning frost that was seeping in. The windows were all fogged up, but he could see glowing lights dancing around the outside. _No way._ Before Jon could think anymore on them, Sansa began to stir. Having her stretch and moan, all while still pressed up against him, made Jon _pleasantly uncomfortable._

“Good morning,” she croaked. Jon couldn’t see her face (they were still spooning) but her raspy voice made him _more_ pleasantly uncomfortable. “What time is it?”

“I dunno, it’s still dark out. I’m guessing around 5 or 6?” he quieted down to listen for the familiar pitter patter. “And I think it’s still raining.”

Sansa shifted to snuggle closer to him and then chuckled, “Is that a stray biscotti or are you just happy to see me?”

Jon coughed.

Sansa bolted up and looked at him, a cheshire grin forming on her face, “ _Yo_ _u’re happy to see me._ ”


	6. Daybreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> who needs clothes when other things can keep ya warm? 😉🤪
> 
> Day 6 prompt: Keeping Warm / Clothing

“I- uh…” Jon stammered and cleared his throat, “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“What did we say about lying Jon?”

Jon sighed reluctantly, “That I'm shit at it.”

“Exactly,” Sansa smirked, “so don't bother. Besides, your predicament can be easily fixed.” She glanced down very quickly and then right back to his face.

Jon cleared his throat. _Seven save me._ He tried to shrug it off. “Stop leering! Now, if you’ll excuse me while I get the fire going again, yeah? It must've died out sometime last night.” He moved to get up, but Sansa only flung herself right on top of him, effectively preventing him to leave their cozy little nest. Reflex had him gripping her waist. 

She stacked her hands in fists right on his chest and rested her chin there. Very aware of where her hips lined with his, he tried to concentrate on looking at her face, but it felt like she was staring into the depths of his soul. His poor, horny soul. “Sorry Jon, the only wood left is yours, and it has better uses.” _She'll be the death of me._

Jon shut his eyes and took a deep breath. “Well, we have to figure out something. It's daybreak, barely the crack of dawn and no one will be here for at least another few hours. I dunno about you, but I'd prefer not to freeze to death in a coffee shop.” 

Sansa rolled her eyes. “You're so dramatic, we aren't going to freeze to death. It's not even that cold.”

“Says you!” he said in a mock outrage.

“What can I say, I'm a true Northerner. Poor Jon Snow and his Southron blood.”

He sputtered, “Excuse me?! I was _born_ in Dorne, that doesn't mean I have Southron _blood!"_

“To-mae-to, to-mah-to.” she replied airily. 

“That's literally not how that works. Regardless, it's cold and that oven idea is starting to sound tempting.”

“Who knew you were such a big baby?” Sansa sat up and flipped her hair back. Jon, unsure what was happening, got up on his elbows to get a closer look. She began to unzip her jacket and his eyes bugged. 

“Uh San, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I'm doing? I'm giving you my jacket to keep you warm. Here, it's a little baggy on me, so it should fit you fine." Sansa pulled Jon up into a sitting position and wrapped her jacket around him. She suddenly felt very possessive. _He should wear my jackets more often, think I like seeing him in them._ She was right, it fit him perfectly.

“Well, now I just feel silly taking your clothes.” Secretly, he enjoyed wearing her clothes. It smelled just like her and if he was being honest, being encompassed by Sansa Stark’s scent was intoxicating. But it wasn’t enough, he wanted more of her. Looking at Sansa without her jacket over that sweetheart neckline sweater made him wish she would peel the rest of her layers off, but he'd never say it. Yet.

“Admiring the dragonfly again?” she said knowingly.

Jon ignored her. “Aren't you going to get cold?” he replied instead.

She scoffed. Then in a more teasing tone she said, “I’m no southron bird.”

“You saying I am?” Jon was affronted.

“You did say you always wanted to join the Crows.”

“Yeah, a _Northern_ based Private Investigation company. And besides, I was like 9 when I wanted to become one!”

“Mhmmm.” Sansa wasn’t really skeptical of him, but riling up Jon has recently become one of her favourite pastimes. Suddenly aware of their position, she blushed. She may be confident in using her words, but Sansa wasn’t normally one to initiate physical contact, let alone straddle a man; earlier was a fluke. Flirting was fun. Flirting was easy. This next step though, it made her as nervous as she was excited. Sliding her hands down his shoulders, she made to move off of Jon. “Oh -uh- I didn’t mean to actually sit on you like this. And for so long. I’m sorry.”

Jon tightened his grip on her. “I’m not.” She settled back down. Jon’s eyes flicked down to her lips, then lower to the dragonfly pendant, then back up to her eyes. 

To his questioning look, she nodded. “You said there are other ways of keeping warm, right? Show me.”

If asked, neither one could say who made the first move. But move they did. Lips locking, hands fumbling, thighs squeezing. Their bodies sang.

_Alright then, next step it is._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyooooooo
> 
> is Sansa giving Jon her jacket a euphemism for cloaking him? why yes, yes it is


	7. Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 🎶I said a bang! bang! bangity bang! I said a bang bang bangity bang!🎶
> 
> Day 7 prompt: Trick or Treat, FREE DAY  
> ((it's a treat. you guys get a treat.))

“Hey Robb, have you heard from Sansa yet?” Arya was worried. She didn’t think killing her sister’s phone battery was _that_ bad of a prank. She just didn’t count on Theon and Rickon being equally mischievous. 

“No not yet, and I’m getting kind of worried. Jon’s not answering his phone either.” The storm flooded areas in the Wintertown neighborhood and Robb was stressed. That’s where Sansa’s café is. Jon’s last text said he was getting Sansa, but Robb hadn’t been able to reach him since. “But the storm’s still going, there’s no point in going out there now and risking ourselves. Jon and Sansa are smart, they’ll be fine. Maybe they’re just sheltered in her café? I’m gonna head over there when the sun rises, that way at least I’ll be able to see in this mess.”

“Alright, I’m coming with you. Everyone else should stay though, it’s still bad out there.” Arya looked like she was about to cry.

“Hey, stop,” Robb hugged his sister, “It’s not your fault alright? It was just a little prank, no one expected a storm to hit.” 

“Yeah,” Theon added, “If anyone’s at fault it’s mine. I got Rickon to help me move the dumpster bin to block the back door. Gods, I wanted to inconvenience her in the morning, not possibly-” Theon cleared his throat. “I’m coming too.”

“Stop. The both of you, I’m sure they’re fine.” Robb turned to look at one of his oldest friends, “You always do pranks on Samhain, it’s no one’s fault.”

Bran, sitting at the feet of his mother, started chuckling, “Maybe it’s the fae’s fault.”

___

Outside the Stark household, a black raven watched the distressed family through the window, then flew away- all the way across town to a fallen weirwood. Landing on a branch, it stared at the glowing blue lights, almost menacingly. _Fix this._ The glowing lights fluttered around, before they started to flicker. If ravens could look annoyed, this one did. With a loud and meaningful _kraa_ it flew away. The lights fluttered around a branch for a while then disappeared. Leaving behind a perfectly _working_ cell phone, despite the raging storm that had been going on. 

___

“Did you hear that?” Jon looked up from where they were lying and saw a bird fly away. _Strange. What’s a bird doing out in a storm like this?_

Sansa, still coming down from her high and trying to catch her breath, took a moment to respond. “Hmm? I’m not sure I heard anything.” The only noises she’s been hearing are needy ones of her own and encouraging ones from Jon. 

Jon suddenly groaned. 

“What is it Jon?”

He swiped on hand over his face, “I don’t think I’ll be able to visit your café anymore.”

Sansa frowned at that, “Why not?”

He turned to her and gave her a kiss before saying, “Because I’ll only ever be able to think of this moment, right here. When there are customers lounging about or Arya is standing here wiping down tables, all I’ll be able to see is _you_ , writhing _deliciously_ underneath me, as I-” 

Unable to help herself, Sansa leaned in and captured a kiss. He was painting a _very_ vivid picture. One she would like to recreate with him. And so they did.

___

“Not that that wasn’t absolutely phenomenal, but it looks like the storm’s starting to lighten up. We should get dressed, sun should be up soon.” _Which means our time will be up too. Time to join the rest of the world again._

Jon whined, “But I don’t wanna move.” He looked adoringly back down at the gorgeous woman in his arms. She stared back at him wryly.

“Because you were moving _so_ much earlier?”

The look on Jon Snow’s face was indecently smug. “I didn’t hear any complaints.”

Not about to feed his ego, she ignored him. Sansa sat up with a yawn and stretched her arms overhead. She turned to Jon, only to see him staring heatedly at her. “What are you looking at?”

“Just admiring the dragonfly necklace is all.”

Sansa laughed, “Get dressed you dolt.” She tossed a shirt at him and it landed on his face. They both got quietly dressed, with the occasional kiss in between. 

“I suppose we should clean all this up now?”

Sansa sighed wistfully, “Suppose we should.”

Before they could though, they heard shouting.

“Sansa!”

“Jon!”

“Seven hells is that Robb and Arya?” Sansa ran to the door and started banging it. “We’re in here! The tree fell over and we got stuck!” It took a moment, but Robb, Arya, and Theon managed to move the fallen branches over and pried open the door.

Robb rushed over and grabbed both Sansa and Jon in a hug. “Thank the gods! I was so worried about you two.” Several minutes of questions and answers followed. Everyone needed to get their worries out. 

“The storm knocked out my power-” 

“I’m so sorry for pranking you-” 

“Is this your phone Jon?” 

“Gods it must’ve fallen out of my pocket last night, surprised it’s not broken from the rain!” 

“I’m sorry I blocked your only way out-” 

“Did you guys eat here? There’s so many empty dishes…” 

“Theon, Arya, it’s _okay-”_

“What did you guys end up doing?” At that last question, Jon and Sansa smiled.

“Celebrated Samhain of course.”

“Made some new traditions.”

With that, the group trudged out of the café, promising Sansa they’d come back later to clean the mess. She probably won’t open for the rest of the week, they still need to call an arborist, a weirwood was sacred; and it could possibly be replanted.

Pulling her sister aside, Arya leaned into Sansa and whispered, “You’ve got explaining to do later.” Sansa tilted her head in question and Arya smirked. “Robb and Theon might be oblivious, but I’m not. It smells like sex in here.” Arya twirled out, leaving a blushing Sansa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOWEEE we made it to the end!! Thank you to jonsadungeonsanddrabbles for creating this event!! I never plan out ANYTHING, so I was literally coming up with ideas and writing something new every day😂😂 it was so fun!!!  
> and thank you to EVERYONE who read, left kudos, or commented on this fic!!!😚😚 you guys made it all the more exciting for me to write and made me so happy omg!!!!!  
> if you wanna stay in touch, feel free to stop by my tumblr @schnoogles ! (there's a story behind the name, i swear lmao) HAPPY JONSA AUTUMN WEEK EVERYONE (^ᴗ^✿)💕💕


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